2003/04/10

I keep accidentally deleting this post, which is somewhat annoying me. No matter; I didn't have that much written in the first place.

You know your perspective on things is slightly skewed when you say, "I'm feeling somewhat antisocial tonight. When I get home, I don't think I'll go on the computer or load up Trillian."

I really do see my friends in a real life context, honestly!

I also realized the other day that all my life, I've merely traded one geeky pursuit for another. I've always been a bookworm, and I'm not trading that in anytime soon, but there's also been the MUDding, the band geek (no, I did not play flute), now the blogwhoring... It's almost sad. Except that once I started to realize that the "cool" people had an awful lot of lame pursuits, I didn't mind so much.

Not to mention, I liked my friends. I found an awful lot of good and integrity in those I hung out with, and that was an awful lot more important than a lot of "cool" things, so I was happy.

Ben and I got together this evening for dinner, dessert and some good conversation. We hit up Coles and Chapters, and made some use of my new discount card. I picked up a few books that I'd been waiting on -- Neil Gaiman's American Gods, Strunk and White's Elements of Style, Will Ferguson's Happiness, and a new Carl Hiaasen. I was kind; I got a book for Ben as well. :)

Tomorrow will be a productive day if it kills me. I will put clothes away, and I will get some serious work done on my final exam. As well, I will get some reading done. I'm really looking forward to when all of this is over.

I've been having fun, as you well know, watching Buffy episode after Buffy episode. One of the reasons -- aside from the obvious ones like it's a well-written show, it's funny, entertaining, moving, etc., etc., -- is that I like the storyline between Angel and Buffy. Sure, it's full of angst and it's frustrating that it isn't working out for them the way bleeding heart romantic types like myself would like, but it's also somewhat realistic. I mean, the unfortunate part of life is that not all relationships work out, and sometimes you get your heart broken and you feel like you're going to die from the pain.

But ... you move on. Eventually, with enough time, you're able to stop thinking about that person as much, and you start laughing more and smiling and enjoying the company of others and maybe you even meet someone new and there's interest there. Maybe you feel warm and tingly inside when they touch your hand, or your heart starts to speed up when you sit near them, or you look forward to the next time you might get to talk to them. Maybe you daydream about what it would be like to kiss them, and I could geek out here with a Buffy reference, but I won't. The important thing is that eventually you meet someone else, and maybe you don't love them the same way that you loved that first person, but that's okay. That's normal.

When someone related to us gets divorced and remarried, or a pet dies and another one is acquired, people always get told that so-and-so "is not getting replaced." No one takes the place in your heart that that first pet, that first husband or wife, or that first love had. It's special and it's reserved for them. You love each new person or pet in a different way, but in no less of an important way.

I've loved a lot of people and pets, and I've been in love a few times, I think; it's hard to tell. But each bond that I formed was different, and each time a part of my heart was given in a different way, but no less of a way.

At least, this is how I choose to see it. I've felt as if my heart was breaking, as if I'd never feel whole and happy again. I've cried buckets and felt the pain, and sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly introspective, stressed, or morose, I can feel that pain again. Some days, it's never far from the surface, and it's an effort to hide it and keep it controlled.

But when I'm going through that pain, I'm experiencing it and I'm feeling it and I'm using it to build walls and build myself. I hide my feelings as best as I can from those who hurt me so that they don't hurt me again. Some people will never know everything that I think or feel, because I don't want them to. Maybe it's not the best way to be, but sometimes it's all I can do to look them in the face and remember the good times and not run away until I can forget. The problem is, some things I just don't forget that easily.

Sometimes, it's hard to forget the feeling of holding someone or being held by them. It's hard to forget that special, loved feeling that you had when you were with them. It's hard to forget how they looked at you as if they cared, how they kissed you or stroked your face or even held you tight when you made love. It's hard to see them and remember all of that and think that it can be no longer, because they decided that it was over. They decided that it wasn't working anymore for them or they'd found someone else or, hardest of all, they just didn't feel the same way about you anymore.

It's hard to think that there are problems that one cannot argue about, or solve with words. It's hard to convince someone who's uttered those awful words, "I don't think we should see one another anymore," that yes, in fact, you should. Once someone has initiated the breakup talk, it really can't be undone. It's like getting on a rollercoaster -- you feel at times like your stomach has dropped out of you, like you're going to vomit, and the only thing you can do is throw your hands in the air or hang onto the roll bar and scream until it's all over and you're on secure ground again.

Maybe that metaphor didn't work so well.

But I find that sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly introspective or depressed or (insert next adjective here), I find a lot of similes and similiarities in the television shows or the movies or the music that I watch or hear. I can find a lot of meaning in song lyrics, and sometimes I'm tempted to post them here. In movies or especially television shows, it's worse. Sometimes I watch a storyline and think, "I've had problems like these guys. If they can work it out, maybe I can, too."

That sounds really corny, or self-help booky, but that's not really how it goes. I can't really explain it, and I think I'm starting to run out of momentum and direction (hooray for stream-of-consciousness writing), but I've put it out there and so maybe someone else does the same thing and can explain it for me. Either that, or maybe you'll all think I'm loony and that'll be the end of this page. :)

But at the same time, I think the reason a lot of storylines or song lyrics speak to us on a personal level is because, in the most abstract or literal sense, we've all had those experiences. Sure, not too many people have boffed a vampire several times over their senior, but most of us have been in relationships that would not work out for various reasons, and we found that devastating. Lots of us have loved so completely it felt like we'd die without that person there, loving us, and had it not work out. But television shows or movies show those people eventually moving on and gaining strength and meeting others, and so we draw strength and hope from that.

Sometimes movies or television shows put the characters in grotesque scenes in order to demonstrate just how crazed we can get with love -- think of French Kiss, with Meg Ryan following her boyfriend -- who's dumped her -- to Paris, in order to prove that he still wants to be with her. She teams up with Kevin Kline, and they work out a series of zany happenings in order to break up the boyfriend and his new fiancée. In the end (spoiler warning, if you didn't already know), Meg and Kevin wind up together, having learned that in spite of their apparent hatred for one another, they're in love. The boyfriend is suddenly dull and no longer as special, and it's time to move on.

Of course, there are a lot more pratfalls, comedic lines, wacky mishaps and longing glances, but you get the picture.

These movies, sad and tortured as they may be, speak to us all on an emotional level and give us hope. It's sad, it's depressing, it makes money. What more could an entertainment industry hope for than a bunch of people who've suffered through bad relationships, bad breakups and bad exes and just want to look at beautiful people make it all work -- especially since we can't seem to?

*sigh* This has turned into quite the post. I hope no one is rushing off to class or work and hoping to just scan my site quickly before they go, 'cause it looks like you'll either have to be late to work or check back in later... at which point it's very likely there'll be more from me. Sorry. ;)

Anyhow, I seem to have a brain tumour; it's to blame for all of this rambling and my current state of headpain, so I think I'm going to go dose myself up full of drugs and go to bed. It's around the time I wanted to sleep anyhow.

You're really gonna hate this/I still can dial your number in the dark/But whenever I pull/I'm pushing us further apart

It took all the strength I had not to fall apart
Kept trying' hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart
And I spent oh so many nights
Just feeling sorry for myself, I used to cry
But now I hold my head up high

I'm hooked on a feeling,
I'm high on believing,
That you're in love with me.

It's easy to find meaning in lyrics, when you want to. Those are just the first three songs in my current playlist. Of course, the current one is "Purple Pills," by D12, so I'm not exactly finding deep romantic explanations in that one, that's for sure. :P

And an anecdote. I generally prefer to shave my legs while sitting in the tub with a few inches of water, after a shower; I find it awkward to actually shave in the shower for the most part, and I can't get as close or as thorough of a shave as I'd like (I'm particular about such things). It having been the winter and me having been the lazy bum that I am, it's been awhile since I shaved my legs. This morning, I decided to change that, especially as I've been having itchy skin (one of the few things that actually prompts me to shave in the wintertime; that, and a boyfriend). However, I wasn't too particular about it, just wanting to get it done quickly and such, so I shaved in the shower. Of course, I was running out of hot water, having initially taken much too long in order to perform this necessary evil, so that when I got out of the shower, I discovered that, in my haste, I had managed to shave stripes -- there be relatively straight lines of hair that I missed entirely. This amuses me.